


The Chip

by somethingsintheair



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Gen, but look i wrote something thats not sad, this is really stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8301050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingsintheair/pseuds/somethingsintheair
Summary: Havve has some bad habits, and Sung is getting real sick of his shit.





	

_He was doing it again._

Doctor Sung was glaring daggers at Havve from across the room as the cyborg sat quietly on the couch. He was watching TV, one of his overzealous reality shows that managed to keep his attention in such a way that no one else could quite understand. As he watched, his fingers moved absentmindedly along his jaw.

He was picking at the paint again.

Sung’s eye twitched as Havve picked off a particularly large piece of paint and let it fall to the floor. The outer layer was already chipped beyond belief, all he was doing was making it more noticeable. And Sung was _fuming_. He’d only just repainted that particular part… what, a week before? And already, Hogan had fucked it up. It was like clockwork at this point.

Sometimes, Sung had to wonder if the robot had any sort of respect for his own vessel. He’d come home with dents and dings without a care in the world, only making more work for the doctor. Not that Havve _cared,_ of course-- Sung could probably leave him in that horrid state, and he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. But _Sung_ cared, and that’s all that really mattered. There was no way in hell he was going onstage with one of his best friends looking like a piece of old scrap metal.

“... _Havve._ ”

The man in question lifted his head at the call. He turned to look at Sung.

“You’re _doing_ it again.”

Havve tilted his head to the side. He didn’t seem to understand.

“If you keep picking at that, you’re not going to have anything _left_.”

Havve’s eyes flickered. He glanced down at a chip of paint in his hand. There was a brief pause before he flicked the chip off his hand in Sung’s direction.

“THAT’S IT.” Sung slammed his hands down on the table as he stood, then lunged towards Havve. Havve took that as his cue to bolt from the room and hope for the best.

Meanwhile, Commander Meouch was napping away peacefully in his bedroom. After such a long day, all he really wanted to do was sleep. Unfortunately, he was awoken by what sounded like a small earthquake hitting the house. That sound followed by Havve’s shutdown tone was enough to rouse him out of his bed.

“Doc?” he called as he opened the door and stepped out of his room. “I think Hogan broke again--” His voice faltered when he saw what was really going on. Havve was lying face down on the floor and Sung was straddling his back, frozen in place. He was looking up at Meouch like he’d been caught stealing from the cookie jar. There was a good ten seconds of pure silence between them before Meouch turned around and went right back into his room, leaving Sung to his own devices.

The doctor let out a huff as he unmounted Havve, then carefully rolled him onto his back. He reached down to remove the robot's jaw with a resounding _pop,_ and stood to bring it over to his worktable.

He had some work to do. This time, an extra protective layer.


End file.
